


Unfinished WIPS

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Autistic Sam Winchester, Castiel Has Aspergers, Human Castiel, References to Croatoan/Endverse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-10
Updated: 2018-05-10
Packaged: 2019-05-04 23:29:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14604096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Bunch of WIPS I want to post but don't have the energy to finish.





	1. Safety In Numbers

**Author's Note:**

> h

Life with John Winchester wasn’t ideal. They moved around too much, and Dean had long since dropped out of school to better provide for Sam. But somewhere along the way, someone, somehow, had noticed something was off.

 

Perhaps it was the bruises on fourteen-year-old Sam’s face (Wendigo got lucky, threw him down a flight of stairs), or perhaps it was the fact that the only person who ever showed up to any of his parent-teacher meetings was a barely sixteen year old boy, or perhaps it was the way Sam always came to school hungry, or the bags under his eyes, or any number of things. 

 

But someone noticed.

 

That someone was Sam’s homeroom teacher, one Mr. Speight. He’d raised alarm bells with the principle, and somewhere along the way something else had given it a little  _ push _ . The principle had passed it along to the proper authorities, and even John’s fake FBI badges weren’t enough to stop him being arrested for child neglect at best and full out abuse at worst. (Dean still had bruises on his stomach that weren’t hunt-related. Sam pretended to ignore them). A very nice woman had come to their motel room a little bit after that and told them to pack their things.

 

Not a difficult task, considering neither of them ever unpacked anymore. All it took was a little bit of jostling to fit Sam’s newest book obsession in and they were off. 

 

Our story properly starts on that sunny Tuesday in June, when Sam and Dean Winchester were finally Out of the life. Not for good, but for now it was enough. They were driving down a long highway, sunlight streaming through the windows, and Sam, who’d just recently passed Dean in height, reached for his brother’s hand. For the first in a very long time Dean didn’t pull away.

 

“Now, I know that Jody probably isn’t what you were expecting, but as far as we know you don’t have any living relatives, and she said she had a little room left for you two boys.” Chatted the woman who was driving, Debbie something-or-other, Sam couldn’t remember. “There are already seven other kids with her, but I’m sure you’ll fit right in!” 

 

Her enthusiasm wasn’t as contagious as she seemed to think it was, because Sam tightened his grip on Dean’s hand and he thought he felt Dean do the same. Seven? How could nine kids live in one house at the same time? Hell, he could barely cope with one. Dean was messy and loud and irritating, and yet somehow Sam’s neatness and quietness and calmness fit in with Dean. His little quirks never seemed to bother him, like how he had to cover his ears and rock back and forth sometimes to make sure everything was right or how he’d chew on his fingers when he was reading so he could concentrate or all the other things he did that Dean just accepted.

 

It was late afternoon when they arrived, and Sam was starting to see just how nine kids could all live together in one house. All seven of the current ones seemed to be out in the front yard, pelting each other with water balloons, although upon closer inspection, two of them weren’t joining in. One of them was calling encouragement to one side of this water war, and the other was focused entirely on a book he was reading, ignoring everything else. 

 

Debbie whatever pulled into the driveway, catching the attention of most of the kids save the one with the book. As Sam and Dean climbed out, a boy around Dean’s age with a mess of blonde hair and chubby cheeks bounded up to them with all the enthusiasm he could muster, which was quite a lot. 

 

“Hiya!” He chirped, the sun lighting up his hair like a halo. “You two must be the new kids. I’m Gabriel.” He stuck out his hand to Dean for a shake, and he warily took it. The boy then did the same for Sam, who shook it with a lot more vigor. 

 

Gabriel hooked his arm into Sam’s, which was pretty amusing as he was at least three inches shorter, and pulled him towards the group. “I’ll introduce you guys to everyone!” 

 

Michael turned out to be the oldest, as well as the tallest, but not by much. Lucifer (wow, their parents must have had a terrible sense of humor) was next, looking just as punk as someone named  _ Lucifer _ would be expected to look. The bookworm turned out to be called Castiel and the one sat next to him was Balthazar. The only other boy was Samandriel, who was also the youngest at seven. The two girls of the group were named Alex and Claire. 

 

They all gave some sort of acknowledgement, even if it was just a grunt in Lucifer’s case. Gabriel was outright beaming, although that seemed pretty normal if everyone else’s reaction was any indication.

 

“Guys, grubs up! Anyone who doesn’t get their butts to the table now won’t be eating!” Shouted a voice from inside, making everyone scramble to obey. Debbie smiled at the two boys and herded them inside. 

 

The woman who would be their caretaker from then on was… Something, for sure. She was fairly short, with cropped black hair and muscle that had obviously come from hard work rather than going to a gym. She also had a warm, motherly air about her, one that made Sam instantly like her. 

 

“Oh, boys! You must be Sam and Dean, right?” She said over the general chatter of the meal. Dean nodded cautiously. “Right, well, I’ve had to set you up in different rooms - sorry about that, but Castiel wouldn’t move and I didn’t want to put you both with Lucifer on your first night here - so Dean, you’ll be in with Gabriel, and Sam, you’re with Castiel.”

 

Disappointed as he was to be separated from his brother, Sam was secretly grateful. Castiel seemed nice enough, but he noticed Dean looked more than a little bit put out. 

 

“Why don’t you two sit down and I’ll dish you up some food?” It was phrased like a question but wasn’t said like one, and it had been a long while since either of them had had a decent home cooked meal. Even being seated a few seats away from each other wasn’t enough to dull their good mood, even though being shoved between Lucifer and Gabriel wasn’t the most pleasant situation he could have been in, Sam enjoyed the meal anyway. 


	2. The End Is Nigh

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Somehow, Endverse!Castiel gets dumped into the bunker. Chaos ensues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> H

(April 13th, 2018)

 

Castiel woke up.

 

Now, this, of course, was a common occurrence for him nowadays, but the weird thing about it was the way he woke up. No gunfire, which was strange enough on its own, but he wasn’t even waking up to a kick to the side or a nudge with the barrel of a gun the way he’d long since grown accustomed to. 

 

No. Castiel woke up on his own. No guns, no steel-toed boots, just him. Waking up. In a place that was completely unfamiliar and also much nicer-smelling than he’d gotten used to. Despite his usually less-than-sober state, Castiel was still a warrior of God, one who’d been shoved into an apocalypse world, no less. So instantly, he was on high alert, keeping his breathing deep so that if there was anyone in the room, they wouldn’t be alerted to his newly awakened state. 

 

After a long, long moment, he cracked open one eye. He was in a room, an empty one as far as he could tell. It was clean, cleaner than anything had a right to be, especially now, and smelled not fresh but not covered in grime and full of unwashed bodies the way his own room was. 

 

Deciding there wasn’t much to be gained from laying there pretending to be asleep, Cas sat up and leaned his elbow on his knee, scratching at the rough hair on his cheek. A few years ago, a second Dean had entered their world, saying he was from a different time. It was… Almost inconceivable, but maybe someone had thrown him into the world that Dean had come from, with clean water and fresh food and  _ God,  _ soap. He prayed there was soap here.

 

He took another moment to sit and bask in the calm silence that was hard to come by for him, and then hauled himself to his feet and started to poke around. 

 

Within minutes, the jitters started, ones that he steadfastly ignored because this book was super interesting, obviously. 

 

Then he was way too distracted to think about the jitters because in walked his fearless leader. Who was pointing a gun at him. As was the tall, long-haired guy next to him. 

 

“Who the hell are you?!” 

 

Cas raised his hands in surrender, because he may have been an idiot, but he wasn’t stupid, and this man who looked a whole lot like his Dean but clearly wasn’t was pointing a gun at him and Cas wasn’t the biggest fan of getting shot, even if it wouldn’t kill him. 

 

“Alright, look. I know you’re thinking shapeshifter, or demon, or whatever, but I’m Castiel. Not  _ your  _ Castiel, but I am Castiel.” Hm. His name sounded kind of annoying when he said it that many times in a row. “So could we, please, put the guns down and talk?” 

 

The long-haired one was the first to lower his gun, and Dean followed his lead. Now that the adrenaline from having multiple(!) guns pointed right at his head was fading, the shakes were back. He fisted his hands into his shirt.

 

“Well. Get talkin’.” Dean snapped, in that tone that meant Do What I Say Or I’ll Shoot You In The Head, the tone that Cas had been responding to every day for years. 

 

“I don’t know how I got here, or why I’m here, but I am.” Cas said at length, scratching at the stubble on his neck. “I’m here, and I’m not sure how to get back to my own timeline or whatever, so until you can figure it out, I’m stuck here.” 

 

Unconsciously, he’d left the Jesus-lookalike out of his little speech, because he wasn’t sure who-- 

 

Oh. Right. Of course. Dean’s brother. The one who had started it all. Except, this one hadn’t done that, so Cas stamped down the urge to yell at him, along with the bile rising in his throat, and shrugged, one listless heave of his shoulders. “I don’t know what to tell you, man.” 

 

The brother, Sam, wasn’t it, something like that, squinted at him suspiciously. “What the hell happened to you, Cas?” 

 

Cas chuckled humorlessly and spread his arms wide in a careless motion. “This is what the apocalypse looks like, boys. This is what it does to you.” 

 

Apocalypse, yeah. Living through that was pretty shit. Living in a world after the apocalypse was even worse, and the fact that Cas couldn’t even be killed or get infected made matters all the more depressing. 

 

His hands were quivering, now, and he could feel the breaths he didn’t know he needed start to quicken. 

 

“So what you’re saying is, you’re from a world where the apocalypse happened?” Sam was saying, and Cas made a so-so motion with one shaking hand.

 

“Eh. Kind of. I don’t know the details of it, but from what I know, Lucifer won that battle, wore you like a freakishly tall meat suit, and got the government to unleash a virus on the human race to kill them off.” 

 

He was talking fast, jittery, his vessel screaming at him to  _ get it now now now you need it you need it right now _ and it was hard to ignore. 

 

What was easy to ignore was Sam talking, saying some shit about whatever, Cas didn’t care. He perked up when he said, “-Something to drink?” though. 

 

“You guys- That works?” He asked, pointing at the sink he could just about see. “Like, it actually has water in it?” 

 

They both looked confused, and Dean strode over to the kitchen and flipped the facet on with no qualms. “Yeah, it works.”

The vessel’s need for the drug paled in comparison to it’s sudden and powerful need for water. Before Cas was even aware of what he was doing, he’d shoved Dean out of the way and was bent over the sink, one hand gripping the cool metal of the facet and the other braced on the wall behind it, drinking down as much water as he could because he was one of the few that wouldn’t die from dehydration or disease and his leaders took advantage of that and rarely let him have the fresh stuff. 

 

“Hey, hey, careful, you’re gonna make yourself sick-” A hand touched his back, right between the bases of his ragged, torn up wings, and he spun around and pulled his own gun. His beard was still dripping, and he licked his lips without thinking about it to chase the last of the water away. 

 

The gun was useless, and he had to point it at the floor after a second because his hands were shaking so bad he could barely hold it and he really didn’t want to end up shooting anyone. 

 

Both of them were talking but Cas couldn’t find it in himself to listen. He’d been sure he’d had some, in his pockets somewhere. 

 

He tossed the gun to the side and begun to pat himself down, casually at first, and then more frantically when he didn’t find what he was looking for.

 

“Woah, Cas, just calm down, okay?” Dean was there, then, warm palms against his shoulders, and it was weird to see him beardless and not dead inside. “What’re you looking for?” 

 

For a second, he’d been able to ignore the vessel screeching at him, but then it started up again tenfold and he jerked away from Dean, despite wanting to fold into him and cling to his shoulders and wait the shakes out the way his Dean sometimes let him do. 

 

He tore himself out of that mindset and forced himself to  _ breathe.  _


	3. Norm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam Wesson and Dean Smith are two normal guys. The only thing they have in common is that they work in the same place. Castiel and Gabriel Novak are two considerably less normal guys that hunt monsters and run credit card scams for a living. When Sam and Dean are captured by demons, it’s up to the Novaks to save them.
> 
> (And maybe fall in love along the way.)

Dean woke up dizzy.

 

This was not a normal occurrence for Dean, because Dean was Normal. Capital N. He woke up dizzy and his head was pounding. He groaned as he came to and squinted in the bright light. It took him several long moments to realise that he was actually tied to a chair in what appeared to be someone’s basement. His palms were sweaty and it was really damn cold.

 

Opposite him there was another person, tied in the same way, and Dean felt a wave of startling relief. He even recognised him - Sam something… West, something like that, he worked in the tech department. 

 

“Hey. Hey! Are you awake?” Dean kicked his foot weakly and the other man stirred, shaking his hair out of his face. 

 

“Uh? Where… Where am I?” Mumbled Sam, and Dean felt the sentiment heartily.”Wait a second… Smith? Dean Smith? What the hell is going on?” 

 

“I know just as much as you, man.” 

 

They were cut off by the sound of footsteps - distinctly female, the  _ clip  _ of her heels echoed around the space - and a dark-haired woman stepped into view. “Glad to see you two are awake.” 

 

“Who are you?” Said Sam, far braver than Dean was feeling right then. “What do you want with us?”

 

The woman threw her head back and laughed. When she looked at them again, her eyes were jet black. Like, all the way, no whites or anything. It was terrifying. “Oh, boys. So naive.”

 

Dean swallowed thickly and struggled in his bonds.

 

“Crowley is gonna like y-”

 

The woman was cut off by a knife coming out of her stomach. Her face lit up orange along the bones, and then she collapsed, revealing a short, blond dude wearing way too much plaid and a leather jacket.

  
“Cavalry's here.” He remarked with a wink, and then spun and drove the knife into someone else’s chest, lighting them up that weird orange before they fell over. 

“Cas! Two civvies over here, possibly injured! Probably concussion on the big one.”

 

Both of them were looking at him like he was insane, but he stabbed another person and then pushed his hair back from his face and shot them another wink. “Be right back, guys.”

 

And then he was gone, off back the way he’d come, somewhere behind Dean.  

 

“What the hell?” Dean managed.

 

“I don’t know.”

 

“No, seriously, what the hell?!” 

 

“I don’t know!” 


End file.
